Jesus makes his invitation to a specific group: all ye that labour and are heavy laden. Not the interested, not the qualified, not those who have their house in order. The people addressed are the ones who are worn out and carrying something too heavy — and the qualification for coming is simply that this is true of you.
What he offers next is easy to misread. He does not say he will remove the yoke; he says take my yoke upon you. A yoke is still work. But a yoke was fitted to the animal, and a badly made one wounded while a well-made one distributed the load. The offer is not the end of labor. It is the end of being crushed by the wrong one.
He gives his reason: for I am meek and lowly in heart. Of everything he could have said about himself to make the offer attractive — his authority, his power, his knowledge of the Father — he chooses his gentleness. That is the argument. Come to me because of what I am like to be near.
Much of the weight people carry in religion is self-imposed: performance, comparison, the sense of never having done enough to be safe. Jesus does not add to that pile. He offers to take the load and give back rest unto your souls — the deep kind, the kind that survives a hard week.